Alpha, Oh, Alpha
by ifedexit
Summary: Peter Hale is in Eichen House. A figure finds him in the middle of the night and tells him to pick a night or time from his past. What will Peter choose to redo? Will his efforts have been in vain? Who or what will he become in the end?
1. Still Not On Time

_Author's Note:_

 _Teen Wolf has become another obsession of mine and unfortunately, I've become smitten with the "bad guy." However, I have such a strong belief in not only redemption for Peter Hale but for him to turn out to be good. I know that he got lost in his way of avenging his family, that he turned to power as an answer, but I also know that he went through so much hell. He lost almost his entire family and nothing could replace that; so he spent every day thinking of revenge, how to be strong enough to finally murder the person responsible. (Now, I'm on episode six of season four so I haven't seen everything yet but I do know some spoilers. I was inspired to write because Peter is a father and they never truly explore that, or haven't yet for me.) Note on the last sentence: I keep seeing these Tumblr text posts and decided to add the "What's good?" part to the story. I thought it would add a little more humor for the situation._

* * *

The Eichen House. As the days went by, the madhouse schedule had become a blur but it wasn't what sent my skin crawling with irritation. It was the doctors, the people down here with me.. They were nothing like me.

Sure, I didn't have the perfect record of goodness on my plate and I was not known for my good works, but what was stolen from me? _**My**_ birth right! And then, my family is stolen from me; even if I hated some of them, I never wanted them to die. I may have amused myself with the thought but I would never have taken all of those lives.

And then there was the fact that when I had been the next of line, the heir, that _stupid girl_ became the Alpha! Then, I did what was necessary; if I couldn't obtain the position by natural causes, I would speed up the process. Laura's face as my claws slashed at her throat looked horrified; it almost made me regret it. But then I felt the power, felt the shift from just a Beta to an _**Alpha.**_

As time went on, I was murdered by Derek, my own nephew; he became the Alpha after me. From murder or being of the line of Talia, I was never sure.

My death had been short lived, however; I knew Lydia Martin was immune to the bite but I implanted my memories into her, just in case. She had turned out to be very useful, surprisingly. Rather than just spending the rest of her life crying, she actually brought my dear old nephew to me and long story short, I arose from my grave.

 _Currently, I wouldn't put being alive on the good things list._

* * *

I lay my head on my pillow, looking at the ceiling as another screamer went off on how they would tear the doctors apart, how they would make sure the doctor never lived another day. "Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me; Mama, just killed a man," I sang, turning over in my bed to look at the wall.

As the hours passed, I eventually closed my eyes, falling asleep with even the neighbor beginning their yelling session early. It happened easily, just as every sleep I had ever taken; however, I was woken by the shuffling of feet in my room.

Based on what my neighbors claim, I never gave an excuse to why I bolted from the bed, my blue eyes searching everywhere. My gaze fell on the man in the middle of my room, adjusting to the way the moonlight fell upon him. He was tall, with a face that was burnt to the crisp, yet still an dumbfounding pale color. His eyes were a black abyss with no whites on the edges; they didn't seem to miss anything.

"Just because I can't have weapons in here doesn't mean they can contain the claws; I'd go to the next room if I were you." I shifted so that I stood, facing my opponent. He didn't look all that menacing so I was sure to win.

He scoffed, looking as if I had just told him another joke from a children's book. "I'm not here to murder you, Peter; I'm here to help you." The tone was bitter disappointment; he most likely was doing me a favor under someone else's rule. He wasn't a kamina by any means but if he was offering peace, I wasn't going to move closer than I needed to.

"Help me? Forgive me if I'm not expecting you to bring me a present." My claws were beginning to shrink back slowly, but were still visible enough to prove a threat.

For a moment, he paused, his lips pressed together in a thin line of disgust. "You will be given one day in time; you will have the ability to change large things, small things, or nothing. Everything can have a devastating reaction or a positive one. You will have sixty seconds to choose."

"Wait, what?" I cut in, my mind racing as his fingers closed around something on his wrist. Little ticks went by and I realized that I was being timed; what a professional.

"Forty-two seconds."

"Give me a minute!" I hissed in protest, beginning to run back through all of the days that I could change the outcome of, that I could once again come on top of.

"Thirty-six seconds."

My mind gave me only one thought that would prove worthy enough after all of this time. _Malia._ "Alright, I have it."

The pale man's eyes closed and suddenly, he was right before me, his breath on my forehead. "Grab my arm and you'll be there." He hadn't opened his eyes yet, nor did I trust him more than I had when I had woken up; nevertheless, I took his arm, my claws digging into his skin but not to the point of breaking skin.

Sand appeared on the floor of my room, causing myself and the man before me to sink in it to about knee height; The sand then surrounded us in a tornado like fashion, creating a high-winded, protection shield around us. The small parts of the sky that I could still see had become colorless now but the man in front of me had yet to even take a peek.

The sand then fell, just as my body collapsed. My eyes closed with the pressure of the drop, falling unconscious instantly. However, I awoke quickly, noticing the difference in the room immediately; it was no longer cold and dull but warm and full of a vaguely familiar smell.

It was the smell of a terrorized human being, resting in the arms of a peaceful man. I rose from the floor, discovering that I was in the kitchen of someone else's house. My mind failed to care, focusing on the scent hanging in the air, just above me; the child smelled quite similar to Malia, mainly from the shampoo. I had imagined that I would be sent to the time where she was a baby, right after she was _**taken**_ from me but things wouldn't have changed if it had been then.

As I approached the living room, I took notice that the both the inhabitants of the chair were fast asleep. Ever so slowly, I peered over the headrest, looking upon her face; she couldn't have been older than nine now.

Moving carefully, I found myself at the front side of the chair, gazing down upon the small girl. Then, I shifted my gaze to the "father," my hands moving under her carefully; I seemed to be doing too well at taking at her, until a hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" the man asked, his eyes proving weary but his tone giving no such hint to the weakness.

I sighed, my eye color changing from blue to a vibrant, bright yellow, showing my Beta status. "That's my daughter; just because _**she**_ signed the papers that gave my daughter away, doesn't mean that _**I**_ signed them." My hands moved so that she was in my arms, my eyes studying Henry Tate carefully.

He shook his head, his green eyes once again portraying his determination. "I'll die before I let you take her. If you haven't been her father for nine years, you most certainly aren't now." _**Thump, thump, th-th-thump.**_ The beating of his heart became quicker, causing a small smirk to come across my face.

I slipped my arms from the girl's body, my jaw clenched. "Then let's get it over with; I hate leaving blood everywhere," I commented, my canine's growing as my claws became present again. Of course I didn't want to murder him but if he insisted on it..

Henry took a deep breath, setting Malia carefully aside; he honestly believed that he would kick _**my**_ ass _**quietly**_. He couldn't have known that I was well experienced with hunters, werewolf and normal animal alike; I could most likely guess his upcoming movements before they happened.

He threw a punch and I caught it with ease, crushing the bones underneath my own hand. He let out a sound of pain before attempting to throw another punch; I caught his wrist and twisted it so that the top of his arm faced me. My elbow collided with his arm, creating the sound of bones breaking. The angle of his cartilage from his arm assured me that if he lived, he would have quite the hospital bill.

I grabbed his hair, leading his head into the coffee table as he struggled against me, blood splattering on the glass. I chuckled, pulling him back to look at me as a blood trail ran from his mouth and slowly spilled to his neck. Already, he seemed to be exhausted; I took some odd pride in the fact that I was stronger than him, that I was better than him.

"Would you like to die faster?" I taunted, my claw running from his brow to his cheekbone. "I'd love to tear your throat out now but.. I always loved to play with things before I killed it; my mother never could quite break me of the habit."

Henry made a noise of annoyance before sending his other elbow into my gut, barely making me shift. _Is this your best? No wonder Malia never learned anything._

Rather than beating him senseless, I simply let him go, letting him find his footing for a few moments. Once he raised his fists, I pressed my lips together, ramming into him and sending him into the wall. A hole the size of his torso was formed, leaving the only evidence that he had once been there. His body was on the floor, curled up in pain and attempting to recover.

My claws dug into his arm after I reached down to pull him from the walnut colored laminate, his weight more limp in my grip than I expected. My other hand wrapped around his throat tightly, watching the blood drip down slowly. The only thing that distracted me from ripping him apart was the sound of a loading gun.

Both my head and Henry's turned, our eyes falling onto Malia; she stood with a pistol in her hand, though it trembled. Her heartbeat could've been heard from a mile away. **_Th-thump. Th-thu-thump._** "Let him go," she spoke quietly, her voice managing to stay even.

I hadn't always used my brain strategically but the opportunity was too good to resist. "You don't want to shoot me; I know you don't. And you also know that I'm familiar in some form, don't you?"

Her grip on the gun seemed to go stronger as her eyebrows furrowed together. I could practically hear her mind screaming for her to stay calm. Her scent came off as three things: confusion, desperation, and horror. I mentally placed all three under the likely categories as she took her time to form an answer. "What do you want?"

"You're my daughter," I began, bringing Henry to me so that he stood between myself and the barrel of the weapon pointed at me. "You inherited abilities, abilities that you can't control; even though nothing has changed physically, you can _feel_ it inside you, can't you?"

Her eyes shot to her adoptive father, almost as if to plead for a written answer from him. He gave no such reply, being as my fingers added pressure against his throat, nearly to the point of him being unable to breathe.

"I can help you, Malia. You don't belong here, with these people who don't know what it's like. You belong with me, with Derek; you belong with your _family._ " In all the times that Scott had spoken of her, he mentioned that her spot of weakness had come from her family. Although it was cruel, I was not below weaponizing it against her.

Gears began to shift in her head and the cons slowly died away to the pro's, leading to the falling of the gun. "If I go with you, you have to promise that they won't get hurt by you or.. or whatever it is you are."

"Malia, no.." Henry protested through gasps, eventually falling limp as I cut his oxygen. He wasn't to be my downfall. His eyes still remained open, as if he would take in every detail for all he was worth. His heart rate even returned to normal oddly as the moments ticked by.

Malia's eyes focused on him before moving to me, a small coat of tears in them. "Promise me."

I stepped over the broken form of her "father," moving so that I stood within two feet of her. My werewolf- born eyes hid themselves, as well as hiding my nature along with it; my fingernails returned to normal, as did my canine's. "I promise that I will not hurt them, nor will anyone else that is like me."

My lips took on a small smirk and I held my hand out to her, feeling the hesitation pierce through the air with the strength of a sharp blade. Her small hand fit in mine well, making me question who her mother was once more. _Talia, if only I could torture it out you now; why do you have to be-?_

I became distracted in thought, I realized that there was still years to come before the fire. And once I showed up with Malia? Talia couldn't deny me what was rightfully mine: _**the** **truth**_. She would be forced to tell me, to help me with Malia.. _I can trap you, you **stupid** -_

"If you're my father, why didn't you come for me earlier?"

The question broke my concentration, bringing me to the awareness that we were walking in the middle of the street, just near where the Argent's had previously lived. A low, prominent, growl rose from my throat and for a moment, I was tempted to remember the scent of Kate, to hunt her down and kill her once more. But then, I reminded myself that I was not here for her but for someone else.

I took a deep breath, being sure that I kept my pace going steady and strong. "I would have found you one way or another; my sister made sure I would never remember you. Why she did still remains a mystery but she did, nevertheless."

Malia simply nodded and stayed quiet; the only reminder that I had of her being there was her warm hand in mine, occasionally adjusting so that her grip could linger in mine. At those moments, I would look down and find whiskey-brown orbs that would stare right back at me.

Travelling became difficult in the woods; she was tired from walking so far already and if I were being honest, I was exhausted as well, but not from walking. It was the travelling between times; something about being spit from the layer of time I had once been in to this time had taken something out of me. I was revived, as well, in some fashion. Some of the withdraws from being in a coma and dying were no longer present but I remembered them very well.

She ended up in my arms, her form rolled away from mine, arms and legs hanging off in an odd fashion. She still hated me, despite having to accept that she had been lied to by the Tate's. _Oh, pish posh; you'll eventually warm up to me. Everyone does at some point._

The moment of satisfaction was saved, however, for when I knocked on the door. It was still white, still untouched from the fire that would happen in the future, and leave it black from damage. As the doors opened, I embraced the look that had once been a reality, the white walls, to the staircase that was perfectly intact and well taken care of, the flooring looking as if it had been installed only days prior to now.

Talia looked at me, a tight smile on her lips, her eyes questioning my whereabouts, when she took in the figure that I held. My lips turned up into a smirk, my cheeks hugging my cheekbones slightly with the promise of upcoming mischief. Never had a pair of eyes been so wide, especially in a child's direction; my sister could've passed for a circus freak.

"Talia," I began, sarcasm practically dripping from my words, "I think I found out a little secret of mine today. Do you mind sharing it with me? Somehow, I confused myself and ended up in someone else's house, where I found a little girl named Malia Tate. It's a shame really; she seems to be more of a Hale." I chuckled, adding to my snide attitude towards her.

She simply stared at the being I held, nothing coming from her mouth; how typical of her. She most likely assumed that I murdered someone and the blood on my shirt didn't help convincing her otherwise. _Sort out the priorities. Remind her what she stole from you._

"Oh, dear sister, what's good?"


	2. Late Night, Fight Night

_Author's Note:_

 _I'm **so** pissed about the way they ended Peter's story at season four! If anyone wants to argue with me/rant to me, please inbox me. I'd like someone to at least show my point of view to!_

 _ANYWAYS. Enjoy the second chapter! I will be a new chapter up for my Severus Snape story hopefully by Friday (to those who read that as well). I really hope that I described the fire well to go with my headcanon. (Part of the reason why Peter would at least be somewhat okay with taking Laura's life is that he saved her from the fire. I also think that it's an actual possibility since they haven't confirmed how Peter escaped very clearly.) Anyways, here it is after a good while of typing! There is a part that repeats itself and it's meant to be that way. It's emphasizing that he did warn her that they would be hunted and he thought about it a lot during his coma._

* * *

The child was taken from arms and put to the side gently. I could feel Talia's rage as I passed her; it was a distinctive smell that my nose had not forgotten. Eyes were upon me, questioning me with their gazes but I ignored them; from the way my sister looked at me now, I had no doubt that we would end up fighting by the end of the night.

I was nearly the doorway of large room in the left, just across from the staircase when my ears twitched with the sound of a low, irritated, growl. Spinning upon my heel, I turned to face her, a smile set upon my lips; my claws had come forth while my teeth came forth as well, my eyes flashing the yellow that came with being an innocent Beta.

Talia's eyes were already red, her lip curled up in a manner that suggested her will to overpower me. What she did not know was that I had gone against a **True Alpha** ; she would look like a parade through any flower garden (other than wolfsbane, of course).

"How did you find out?"

Cutting to the chase was in Talia's forte, most especially now. She never wanted to deal with sarcasm or bad news shared in ill-timing. _How ironic; sometimes news comes at the right time and you never listen._ "Will you not even deny that you hid it from me?"

Her jaw tightened as her shoulders became tense, her lip twitching slightly. "Get it out already; you know I'm not one for your dramatic, little speeches, Peter. I don't have time to wonder _**why**_ you found out, nor do I care. Tell me _**how**_."

"I'll exchange my secret if you exchange yours," I snapped, opening my mouth and producing a roar that seemed to shock her; it seemed that even though my Alpha status had long been taken, some things had managed to stay with me, such as the power of my growl.

Talia crossed the small distance between us and for a moment, I thought of tearing her apart then and there; I would have the right motive. _I would have an means to the end of the Hale family thriving above ground instead of under._

However, our bones gave the sound of dull thunder as they met violently, sending us to the ground. The floorboards broke underneath my back and I snarled, attempting to recover and shield myself from her at the same time. She stood, taking me by the shoulder and throwing me so that I slid into the wall.

I groaned before standing, blood running from my mouth before the wound began to heal. She ran in my direction and I mirrored her actions, dodging her before kicking myself up from the wall; I came up higher than her and flipped, my hands catching her shoulders and pulling her down to the ground.

I landed, crouched down and prepared to strike once more. She turned onto her stomach, growling before lunging in my direction; my back hit the floorboards once more, my claws tearing into her shoulder. Her flesh pulled from the bones and her scream rang through my ear as I withdrew my claws from her. Catching her off guard, I managed to turn her onto her back and drag my hand across her face, the fresh cuts on her cheek looking far worse than they should have.

"Peter, stop it!" a stern but wavering voice spoke from the other room. My head rose and turned, meeting the eyes of my nephew, his gaze full of horror in my direction. This was the second of times that would look at me in such a way, an expression that would fade to anger in his later years.

Pain shot through my chest and I saw that my sister's claws were nearly fully into my skin; I gave a howl of pain before sending my fist into her throat and then removing the source of the pain. After pulling myself out of her grasp, I moved to the staircase, holding the spot on my chest that was bleeding rapidly but beginning to heal. The puncture holes were deep but I would recover in due time.

The tension that I was now presented with was joyful, especially since everyone was staring at me like I had murdered Talia. Slowly, while leaning against the staircase, I stood, taking a handkerchief from my pocket and pulling aside one part of my shirt. _Add to the number of reasons to love wearing V-Necks._

Carefully, I dabbed at the wound as hers was examined; the amount of damage that I had inflicted on her surprised me. Part of her tendon was hidden under the ripped, pale skin, her muscle showing that would make someone guess that she had been mauled by an animal. Blood covered at least half of her back and once more, I found some odd pride in knowing that I had taken on the strength of one of my enemies.

Talia recovered well, the only evidence that any harm had come to her was in her clothing and the new disappointment from my family members. However, the Alpha took it with grace, motioning to the stairs with the nod of her head. _Family meeting? Oh my, you really do want to know how I learned about her, don't you?_

With the thought, the predicament arose; what was I to tell Talia? The words, "I went through time travel" would never have gone far with her. She would scoff at the idea and wave it away as if it were nothing. Only an hour ago, I would've as well. The idea was too far fetched for one to believe without proof.

I moved to the mouth of the stairs, waiting so that she stood at my side. She ascended first, being as she was the Alpha, but also because she was older. I sighed, glancing once more to the living room before starting my climb; I was met with new looks of disappointment from the family.

Turning from my head from them, I followed suit, ascending the stairs slowly, the creaking of wood under my feet practically pounding in my ears. As I turned at the top floor and came to her office, she stood in the doorway, studying me carefully before she let me pass. After sitting down, I saw my reflection in the mirror, seeing that I was now younger looking but not in the sense of my mid-twenties; I had now occupied my curly hair, the clean shave that I had always worn all those years ago. I still had all my personality, rather than all of it being in flames.

Talia came to her side of the desk, sitting before me for a few moments before reaching out and slamming my head against the wood. A cut split open upon my cheek, causing me to hiss in pain as she held my head. "I don't know who you are- what you are- but you aren't my brother. I'm giving you the option to walk from this office and from my doors before I kill you myself."

I chuckled, the pain from the cut dying to that of annoyance. "I can prove that I'm your brother," I claimed, my hands settling on each side of the desk. "I know that when I was a little kid, going through the change, I broke my own toys until I found yours. You never forgave me for screwing up your Betsy Wetsy knock off."

The grip on my head was released, prompting me to raise my head and look at her. "How did you find out? Who did you pay to tell you and how much did you pay them?"

I smirked at her, shaking my head. "If I wouldn't tell them what you did to me, why would I tell you how I found out?" My eyebrows pulled together, acting as a reinforcement for my point of refusing to budge. "Why did you take them from me? Why wouldn't you let me have a daughter?"

"I barely trust you with my son!" Talia looked appalled that I had even asked her the question. "After what you did to Derek, I don't think I could-"

"She was born before then, Talia! A good nine years before then; I'm not a complete idiot. What's your _**real**_ reason?"

Talia looked away, causing my eyes to narrow. "It's unimportant, Peter. The point is, I took your memories long ago. You have your daughter now. Just appreciate the fact that I won't be taking her away from you again."

Her eyes, now the color of blood, flickered to me before she attempted to walk out of her office door. I caught her arm on the way out, my yellow eyes reflecting as a slight orange. A small growl came from her throat and while I was aware that she would rip out my throat in an instant, I made it clear that her telling me to simply enjoy what I had wouldn't satisfy my hunger for the truth.

She pulled her arm from my grasp before looking towards the doorway once more and walking out. Though I shifted back, my anger was rushing to the surface, tempting to unleash itself once more and make another room a mess from fighting with her. Instead, I travelled down the stairs to find Malia, only to be told she was in the same room as Laura.

Despite myself, I went to the room, swinging the door open and looking upon the small body curled up in sheets. She was still innocent, still without fault. It was almost a shame that I would set her on some path of destruction in the part of her that was still human and attached. It wasn't that she would lose the humanity but rather that she would have a part of her soul that would die, just as the innocent would.

I closed the door on the room, deciding it was best that I not plan things ahead for her, that things would eventually fall apart or stayed glued together. The future would be set by how tomorrow was handled; so far, the future was looking to be as it was now, only with another dead body.

* * *

 **Liquid splashed onto the floor; no one thought anything of it. Someone has spilt their drink, or so they had thought. It wasn't until the smell of gasoline hit that Talia's eyes met mine, wide and knowing. The sound of a lighter sparking took place, just as the rest of the Hale's stood, the metal hitting the floor in merely seconds.**

 **Flames lifted from the floorboards, chaos spreading as the fire does. One of Derek's cousins lay on the floor, already being consumed by the flames. Hands reached from the bars to claw their way from the room. Hesitation forced my feet to keep from moving, the height of the flames encouraging me to stay put. The wooden door lay just beyond those flames; I could escape so easily..**

 **I ran through, barely missing what would have nearly consumed me just as it had the others. The wooden door took effort to open, being as it had been locked. I managed to rip it from the hinges, taking one last look to those around me. Bodies were scattered on the floor, most with dark mouths opened in the attempt to give one more scream before suffocation; I could feel the devastation that came into my features, no matter how badly I had wanted to fight it.**

 **Taking a deep breath, I nearly turned back to my salvation, ready to leave my family. But then I saw Talia, her arms wrapped around two already dead children, fighting to keep them from the blaze before she stepped into the gasoline. "Talia!" I yelled, watching her burst into a gulf of orange and yellow, all in the mix of an angry red. There was no scream, no growls of inhumanity, just the sound of a body hitting the floor.**

 **Tears came into my eyes involuntarily and I knew that I** _ **couldn't**_ **leave them. No matter how badly I wanted to get away, to save myself and mourn later, I couldn't.**

 **I cursed her stupidity before spotting two children that hadn't given up yet: Laura and one of her cousin's. I shook my head before diving in after them, taking one into each arm and shielding them from the fire as best as I could. My left side of my body burst into a bright light but I kept moving, my nerves splitting themselves apart as I screamed.**

 **The blaze was still against my skin, slowly frying all the cells that had been building up. As soon as I exited the final threshold, one child dropped, followed by a few steps before another dropped to the side; I joined them, shaking as the impact of something slammed against my side repeatedly and extinguished the inferno. Laura, my niece, was on her knees, near my head as I continued to shake, tears falling from her eyes and onto me. "Uncle Peter, please wake up; please wake up!" she pleaded, sounding as though she was choking out her sobs.**

 **My response to her was to take a deep breath and to murmur two words as I began to drag myself into the only way I knew to survive. "Get help."**

 **Leaves and sticks crunched under small feet but the sound was far away as I forced myself to pass from consciousness, to lose myself in a possibly inescapable void. I had read it once; a self induced coma was rare but not impossible.**

 **Now that my thoughts were no longer controlled or set through a filter, my mind was screaming them nearly as loud as my actual voice would be able to.**

 _She deserves to be dead._

 _I told her this would happen._

 _No one listens to me._

 _I told her this would happen._

 _I told her they were coming for us._

 _I told her this would happen._

 _I warned her that they would destroy us._

 _I told her this would happen._

 _Did she listen? Of course she didn't! She's the Alpha!_

 _I_ _ **told**_ _her this would happen to us._

I woke up to the strong shaking of a firm hand, arms wrapped around me in an attempt to keep me still. I could feel my vocal cords straining with the intensity of my screaming. The arms held me tighter as my claws were tearing into skin with the jolt of consciousness, a small hiss sounding in my ear.

"Peter!" a voice called, my vision clearing to that of Talia. She looked terrified of me, as though I had torn apart a city.

My eyes travelled down to the pair of arms, one wrapped around my shoulders, other joined under my arms to keep me steady. Their arms were freshly cut but showing signs of rapid healing, even with the depth of the marks. I looked up, seeing the dark blue eyes of Derek, watching me closely with concern.

The mirror attached to the wall at the foot of my bed gave away my appearance; my wavy hair was matted to my forehead with sweat, blood on the side of my face from the injuries that I had inflicted on Derek. I was visibly shaking, looking almost as if someone had just died in front of me.

I rapidly looked to the ceiling, met with the white paint that I had seen earlier. As my blue orbs travelled the room, they fell upon a small figure in the doorway. She wearing a night dress with a plastic, Cinderella pendant on top, a small bear tucked under her arm. She simply stared at me before Talia looked at her and told her to go to bed.

Malia left while Talia's eyes focused on me once more, observing as my shaking died down to simply my chest heaving. Derek still watched me but my gaze never strayed from Talia's. "We need to talk. _**Now**_ **.** "


End file.
